


Walk Before We Run

by Kerkerian



Series: Birthday surprises [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: (Nothing graphic though), (but so is Steve), Banter, Danny's helplessly in love, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humour, M/M, Steve's cunning, Surprises, Teasing, mcdanno, steve's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 02:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14095269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: The biggest birthday surprise comes in the shape of a homemade card and its consequences.





	Walk Before We Run

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Hawaii Five-0.

 

Huh.

Danny frowns at the sight in front of him, shaking his head: “Something's missing here, don't you think?”

Grace follows his gaze, looking at the neatly wrapped presents her dad has assembled on the table. For practice, mind you, which is so sweet in her opinion; Uncle Steve's birthday isn't for another week. Now that she thinks of it, Danno's always put a lot of thought into Charlie's and her own birthdays as well, and Christmas... he always made sure it was perfect for her. She never even considered it but now it's beginning to dawn on her how much of an effort he makes for those special occasions: not only the carefully chosen presents but the whole set-up and subsequent celebration. And she's getting an inkling that it may have been rather one-sided most of the time, which is a terribly sad idea.

Spontaneously, she puts her arms around him- she's nearly the same height as he is by now- and hugs him tightly.

“What's that for, Monkey?” Danny asks, surprised.

“Nothing,” Grace quickly blinks the telltale moisture in her eyes away. “Just because.”

She keeps one arm around him as she regards the table again: “It looks perfect to me.”

Danny, obviously still a little mystified about her sudden display of affection when she's been mostly prickly recently because of all the hormones messing with her teenage self, looks at her sideways: “Thank you. I'm not sure though... I mean, there will be the cake, but...”

“ _I_ think you should write a card, Danno,” Charlie, who's been quiet so far, now pipes up.

Danny purses his lips: “A card, huh? I don't know... I'm not good at writing cards.” Which after all has been one of the contributing factors why Melissa and he broke it off, though he still doesn't understand why she threw such a tantrum on Valentine's day, especially considering all the nice things he had prepared for her that evening. Well, that's a road he really doesn't to go down now, partly because he doesn't want to admit to himself that he's secretly relieved about the breakup, but mostly because this is so much more important. _Steve_ is so much more important.

Grace and Charlie now exchange a glance: “We'll help you with it,” Grace offers, earning herself the second utterly bewildered look from her dad within five minutes and only just managing not to grin.

 

Despite his protest, Danny soon finds himself sitting at the table surrounded by his kids, a few sheets of paper and all of Charlie's coloured pencils and crayons.

He takes a normal pencil and writes “Dear Steve, Happy Birthday! Love, Charlie, Grace and Danny”.

“That's a bit short,” Charlie observes.

“And you should write Dann _o_ ,” Grace adds.

“Why?”

“Because he calls you Danno all the time, just like Charlie and me. It's more personal that way.”

Sighing, Danny erases the y and replaces it with an o.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“It's still a bit short,” Charlie insists.

“I feel like I'm having to do homework here,” Danny complains. “Why is it too short? It's got everything a birthday card needs!”

Grace smiles: “Yeah, but it's like every other birthday card he'll get. Don't you want it to be special?”

“You told me I should sign it with 'Danno' to make it more personal, which I did. And now it's still not personal enough?”

“All I'm saying is that there's room for improvement.”

“A lot of room!” Charlie weighs in, grinning.

Danny sighs, looking from one to the other, and mutters something about conspirators.

“Fine,” he then says. “So what else could I write to make this more _personal_?”

For a moment, they're all silent.

“We could make a list first,” Grace eventually suggests. “With all the things we like about Uncle Steve.”

Danny, knowing when it's wiser to admit defeat than to argue (though Steve can't know that, ever), takes a fresh sheet of paper and writes “STEVE” on top of it. “Now what?”

“Now you write up the list.” Grace rolls her eyes a little because her dad can be so stubborn.

“Write 'He's got a dog',” Charlie says.

Inwardly, Danny grins; this list probably isn't going to be exactly what Grace had in mind when she suggested it.

 

By the time they run out of ideas, the list has gotten so long that it's two-sided. While Danny agrees with most of the points, he has to admit to himself that it'd still look a little bit different if he had written down his actual but very private thoughts. This is fun though, and he cherishes how invested his kids are in this; well, they do love Steve after all.

In the end, the self-made card reads:

_Dear Steve,_

_Happy Birthday!_

_We've made up a list of all the things we love about you and there are so many that they don't all fit on this card. But we can at least tell you this much: you're a great friend and uncle, you're always making us welcome in your home and we always have a great time with you and your (equally great) dog. We are very lucky to know you and we wish you all the luck in the world!_

_Lots of love from Charlie, Grace and Danno_

 

On Monday evening after work, Danny comes across the list again as he is tidying up the house a bit. He pauses, looking at the thing which begins with 'He's got a dog' and ends on the back side with 'He makes us laugh”.

Danny thinks of how Steve, whose threatening stare can bring even the most hardened criminals to their knees, is such a different person in his private life. Danny often wonders how it had turned out if Steve's mother hadn't faked her own death and he'd have had a normal family; well, there is no answer to that, but Danny is pleased to see that Steve can still find enough good things in life and enjoy them. One of the reasons why his kids love him is in fact his ability to effortlessly be funny; he just acts natural around them, entirely at ease with himself. Danny recalls how he grabbed Charlie the last time they spent an afternoon at Steve's house, ran into the water with him and pretended to drop him but of course caught him just in time; while Charlie was shrieking with laughter, Steve had turned around to Danny with that goofy smile of his and oh God, that damnably adorable smile has been doing all kinds of things to Danny lately, including the whole butterflies-dancing-in-stomach affair. Which he has been hiding, of course, since he can't risk losing his best friend and possibly his job over his hopeless crush on the man.

Sighing, he sits down, takes a felt-tip pen and writes: ' _he's adorable_ ', followed by ' _his smile's adorable_ ', ' _he's beautiful_ ' and ' _I bet he's a good kisser_ '. Then, with a groan, he drops his face into his hands and wishes, for the probably hundredth time, that things weren't so complicated.

 

Since Steve's birthday is on a Saturday, Rachel agreed to make an exception to their schedule and have Danny pick up the children in order to take them along; Steve's hosting a brunch at his house. The entire team and most of their friends are there (though Danny still misses Chin and Kono). In the evening, it will only be Steve, Danny and the children, having a barbecue.

All the presents have been put on a side table which has been cleared for just that purpose, and Steve immediately sees which ones are from Danny and the kids: they are neatly arranged around an obviously home-made cake, and someone has taken great care in wrapping them.

Steve's heart swells at the sight because for him, having something like this stopped when he was about sixteen; it had been his mom who had done these things. They had vanished with her.

Charlie, who's giddy with excitement, hands him the card: “Happy Birthday, Uncle Steve! You have to blow out the candles and make a wish!”

“Thank you, Buddy! Okay, let me think... Yep, got it!” Steve bends down and manages to blow out all the candles in one go; to be fair, there are only twelve because 41 wouldn't have fit on the cake, but his guests are cheering nevertheless.

Steve actually looks a bit teary after reading the card and admiring the picture of him on the front which Charlie has drawn: “Come here, you guys,” he says, blinking, and wraps his long arms around all three of them: “Thank you so much!”

He kisses Grace on the cheek and tousles Charlie's hair, then smiles at Danny (who is vaguely jealous of that kiss somewhere in the back of his mind, but he is currently too busy not to just stare at Steve goofily): “This is lovely, Danno,” he now says gently and something about his tone sends a delicate shiver down Danny's spine.

“You're welcome,” he manages, returning the smile: “Now open your presents, Babe, come on.”

He ponders on that moment all day, however.

 

When all the guests have left in the late afternoon and Grace and Charlie are on the beach respectively 'chilling' and 'building a sandcastle with Eddie', Danny helps Steve to clean up. He is washing the champagne glasses when he hears Steve coming in; he puts something on the kitchen island and just hovers, silently, until Danny turns around to him, his hands still in the soapy water: “You okay, Babe?”

Steve, who was looking at him with a curious, inscrutable expression just now, quickly catches himself: “Yeah.”

Danny suddenly feels unsettled: “What's that look?”

“Which look?”

“The look you gave me before I turned around.”

Steve shrugs: “I was just thinking.”

“Oh wow, did it hurt?”

“Shut up.”

“So what were you thinking about?”

It takes some feet-shuffling and looking around the room until Steve is ready to answer: “About that list.”

“The- _ah_.” Danny smiles. “You're way too nosy for your age.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Yeah.”

“I'd like to see it.”

Danny shakes his head: “Not gonna happen.”

“Come on, it's my birthday!”

“Still not gonna happen.”

“Why not?”

“It's personal, okay?”

Danny turns back to the sink; he can feel himself flush a bit and doesn't want Steve to see it. But damn that man and his stealthy ninja moves, because he suddenly stands right behind Danny, nearly causing him to break the glass in his hand.

“Jeez, McGarrett!”

“I want to see it,” Steve says directly into Danny's ear, his breath ghosting over his partner's skin; Danny can feel Steve's body heat and smell his scent and for one insane moment wants to just lean into him or, even better, turn around, grab him and kiss him senseless. It takes all of his self-control to overcome the temptation, and he's trembling as he exhales somewhat shakily: “Maybe you won't like what's on it.”

“It's from the three of you, yeah? And you used it for the card. So why can't I see it?”

Danny takes a deep breath, wishing Steve would give him some space: “I may have added a few things later on.”

Finally, Steve steps back, and Danny can't make up his mind whether he should be relieved or disappointed. And whether Steve knew what he was doing to his partner or simply used an intimidation technique unthinkingly. Which would be disastrous for Danny's current state of mind. He thinks back to that moment at the gifts table earlier once more, which only leaves him even more confused. Steve is so difficult to read sometimes, and he constantly seeks physical contact, often ignoring personal boundaries, so who knows what is going on in that thick head of his?

“Can I just ask one question?” he asks, aware that his voice sounds way too squeaky.

“'Course.” Steve folds his arms in front of his chest.

“Why wasn't Lynn here today?”

More feet-shuffling and looking around the room at that. “It didn't work out with Lynn,” Steve eventually says.

Danny, still weak-kneed, wipes his hands on a towel and regards his partner: “Okay,” he says feebly, wishing he'd just lied and told him that he'd thrown the damn list away. “I'll give it to you. But you cannot judge me, okay?”

“Okay.” Steve gives him a broad, goofy smile, and immediately, the butterflies in Danny's stomach are back.

He shakes his head: “Can it at least wait till Monday? I don't have it on me.”

Steve happily shakes his head: “How about you go and get it while I prepare the barbecue for tonight?”

Danny's shoulders slump momentarily: “Okay, okay. You'll probably not let it rest anyway, you Neanderthal.”

 

All through dinner, Danny is on edge. He has given Steve the list (he tried to cut off the treasonable bits, but that would have meant to cut through some of the points on the back and also have been very obvious) and then all but fled down to the beach. He played with Charlie and Eddie in the shallow water until all three of them were soaking wet, all the time hyper aware that Steve had by now read what he's written. A small part of him still hopes that his feelings are being reciprocated, but the other, much larger part of him doubts it, rationally telling him that something would have happened by now if that was the case.

On the other hand, they have both had girlfriends until recently. How is Steve to know that Danny fancies him?

Steve doesn't give anything away; the bastard's his usual relaxed self, joking around with Charlie and talking with Grace about her science project.

Danny is no coward, but as the evening wears on, it's getting increasingly difficult to pretend to be at ease although they make a campfire and roast marshmallows and it's very lovely altogether. Charlie climbs on Danny's lap at one point, tiredly leaning against him, and Danny secretly takes comfort in this, holding his little boy close and resting his chin on his hair.

 

When the children finally, _finally_ are in bed, Danny's heart is beating in his throat. He finds Steve in the kitchen; full circle, Danny thinks, torn between giddiness and panic. What he's written could mean the end of what was the better episode of his life in Hawaii, but that small, hopeful part of him secretly banks on their friendship and all they've been through together so far: maybe they'll deal with it somehow. Valiantly, he wrestles down the other part before it can loudly ask _But how?_

As Steve looks at Danny now, his expression is amused. Which is a good start, unless Steve is merely drunk.

“Are you drunk?” Danny instantly asks to make sure; at this level of nervousness, he doesn't have his mouth under control anymore.

“No, Danno, I'm not.” The amusement is still there, visible in the slight quirk of the corners of Steve's mouth and the twinkle in his eyes.

“Okay, good.” Danny rubs his hands. “So... you read it.”

“Yeah, I read it.”

Steve seems to have far too much with this, so Danny tries to prompt him: “So?”

Steve regards him for a moment longer, silently, before he puts the towel he's been holding down and makes a beeline for Danny with three long strides. He comes to stand inappropriately close to his partner, and all the butterflies are there again.

Slowly, Steve's expression softens into a smile, that smile which so easily turns Danny's knees into jelly, and gently cups Danny's face with both hands: “Do you really think all those things about me?” he asks, voice low and grating over Danny's nerves just right.

“I do,” Danny stammers, barely able to think because of Steve's proximity and his own rapidly beating heart and the realization that he probably is after all going to find out about which kind of kisser Steve is. Who steps even closer until their bodies are flush against one another, trembling, and then he kisses Danny and it is heavenly, tender and at the same time impatient, and Steve feels amazing.

When they pull apart some time later, they just stay like that for a moment, nose to nose, thrilled; overwhelmed.

“I love you,” Danny eventually murmurs. “I just can't help it, Steve.”

Giddily, Steve chuckles ever so softly against Danny's lips: “I'm glad to hear that, Danno,” he replies, equally softly. “Because I love you too. I just never thought...” He breaks off: an explanation is unnecessary.

Danny sighs: “Same here.”

Steve nuzzles his face, taking in Danny's scent: “So this is really happening,” he mutters contentedly, kissing Danny again.

“Yeah,” Danny breathes, still trembling all over.

He doesn't sleep on the couch tonight.

 

On the following morning, they are woken up very early by Charlie loudly yelling for his father. Muzzily, Danny disentangles himself from Steve, realizes that he is naked, quickly slips into his boxers which are lying on the floor and goes to investigate. Eddie has also gotten up and is standing by the door, all alert but wagging his tail at Danny. "Hey Baby," he mutters. "You're such a good boy."

Charlie is sitting up in bed when Danny and Eddie come in, looking upset: “Hey Squirrel, what's wrong?”

“I had a bad dream,” Charlie sniffs. Danny sits down and pulls him into his arms, rocking him ever so slightly: “Really? What was the dream about?”

“I don't remember,” Charlie says, already distracted by Eddie who is now licking his hand affectionately. “But I woke up and I was still scared.”

“Yeah, it happens,” Danny concedes. “Are you alright now?”

“Yeah...”

“It's still very early, Squirrel, you should try and sleep some more.”

“Can I come to sleep on the couch with you?”

Shit. For a moment, Danny flounders, unsure what to tell Charlie. Then he clears his throat: “I didn't sleep on the couch. I slept in Uncle Steve's bed.”

“Why?”

“Because... you know how Mommy and Stan slept in the same bed?”

“Yes?”

“Well... They did that because they loved each other. Uncle Steve and I love each other as well...” A pleasant warmth is filling the pit of his stomach as he says it aloud, and he is proud that it's true.

“Oh, okay.” Charlie seems fine with that. “So can I come to sleep with you and Uncle Steve?”

“Maybe another time, okay? Uncle Steve is very tired and we don't want to disturb him. How about Eddie stays instead of me and I'll wait here with you for a bit?”

“Yes, please!”

So Danny stretches out next to his son in Mary's old bed and Charlie snuggles against his chest; when he has finally dozed off again, Danny gently extricates himself from him, tells Eddie to stay put and leaves the room.

 

A few hours later, Steve is lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, and just watches Danny. He doesn't think he could ever tire of this; Danny is even more beautiful than usual in the soft morning light, his sweet face looking much younger and almost terrifyingly vulnerable in his sleep. Steve doesn't want to veer into Danny's susceptibilities however; they both have enough scars to attest everything they already have been through, so he once more concentrates on Danny's face. When he absolutely can't restrain himself any longer, he leans forward and gently kisses Danny on the mouth.

Danny opens one bleary eye and smiles at the other man: “Hey.”

“Hey.” Steve returns the smile.

Danny hums: “Come closer, will you?” He winds one arm and one leg around Steve, marveling at the fact that this is indeed happening, and they continue to kiss, unhurriedly, tenderly.

Mindful of the kids, Steve eventually pulls back: “Stop, stop,” he says, a little strained because this is getting very heady very quickly. They snicker, a little giddily again, and just look at each other, drinking in the moment.

“Why now?” Danny asks at one point. “All this time, we've been holding back. But yesterday, in the kitchen...” He stops because Steve's expression suddenly is suspiciously contrite.

“Steven?”

Steve grins: “Well, to be honest- I've seen the list before.”

It takes a few seconds for Danny to comprehend. “You- what? How? When?”

“When I came by your house on Tuesday.”

Danny opens his mouth and closes it again. “You didn't come by on Tuesday.”

“Yes, I did. You weren't there.”

“Are you saying you broke in?”

“No, of course not! I know where you're hiding the spare key.”

“So you broke in!”

“It's not breaking in if you have a key.”

“What were you doing there anyway? And what were you thinking, letting yourself in?”

“I just wanted to hang. And when you didn't answer the door, I got worried.”

“Really? Even though my car was gone?”

“Huh. See, that's why you're the detective-”

“You went in to snoop. You wanted to see your birthday presents. Admit it!”

“No.”

“Well, your true motives aside- you saw the list?”

“Yeah.”

“What did I tell you about privacy?”

Steve, wisely refraining from pointing out that they are currently being in bed together, shakes his head: “It was lying on the table.”

“Still private.”

“I didn't read all of it, I didn't even touch it. I just happened to glance at it and saw what you had written.”

“And did you immediately assume that it was about you?”

“No! On the contrary, I was ragingly jealous all week! I thought you had met someone else! Why do you think didn't I stay to wait for you on Tuesday?”

“Oh.” Danny was torn between sympathy and thinking that it served Steve right for snooping. “You could have said something.”

“I didn't know how. And I only put two and two together when I read the card yesterday.” Steve's mouth quirks upwards. “We really are a pair, Danno.”

“In every sense of the word,” Danny replies, unexpectedly pushing Steve on his back and rolling over him.

“God,” Steve mutters between kisses, sounding a bit choked because the sensation of Danny's warm, mostly naked body on top of him is nearly too much, “what... are... you.. doing... to... me?”

"It's... payback," Danny replies, "for... keeping... me... on... tenterhooks... all... evening."

"S...sorry..."

Unfortunately, they can hear a door being opened right then and quickly scoot away from one another. A moment later, there's a knock on their door and Charlie peeks in: “Good morning. I'm hungry.”

 

“Good morning, Buddy,” Steve says. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. But I had a bad dream. Can Eddie always sleep in my room now?”

“We'll see about that.” Danny, still a little flustered, can't quite get up yet. “Do you want to go downstairs and let Eddie out, Squirrel? I'll quickly hop into the shower and be down in a minute.”

“Okay.” With that, Charlie retreats and closes the door behind him.

Giggling, Steve and Danny lean in for one more kiss before they slowly get up.

“He didn't seem surprised.” Steve observes.

“That's because I told him,” Danny replies. “He wanted to join me on the couch, so I had no choice but be honest.”

Which is only one of the many things why Steve loves him, he thinks; he really ought to make a list as well.

 

Danny takes a very quick shower, then goes to make breakfast.

Steve joins them on the lanai when he comes back from his swim; Grace is still asleep.

Since it's a beautiful day, Charlie gets up from the table as soon as he's done, but Danny holds him back: “We need to put on some sunscreen first. Go and get the tube, okay?”

Once Charlie is sufficiently lotioned up, he runs down to the beach to do some more digging, Eddie on his heels. Danny gently rubs the residue of the lotion on Steve's nose.

Grimacing good-naturedly, Steve reaches for Danny's hand, stroking his fingers with his thumb: “You're amazing,” he says quietly.

“Ditto,” Danny replies, smiling at him.

They watch Charlie and Eddie for a while, drinking their coffee.

“How are we going to tell Grace?” Steve eventually asks.

Danny sighs: “We'll just tell her. She's sixteen, she won't faint. And since Charlie knows...”

Steve nods: “She'll be okay with it.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. After all, she's not so easily shocked, our Gracie.”

Danny just looks at him, once more amazed, and thinks that he really still needs to add a few points to that list: ' _He's an excellent kisser_ ' and a few related ones among them, but most importantly: ' _He's like a second father to my kids_ '.

He leans back in his chair, reaching out for Steve's hand again, and decides that writing cards isn't so bad after all.

 

The End

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm not a Native Speaker and therefore apologize for any mistakes.
> 
> Furthermore, Steve McGarrett's birthday supposedly is on March 10th, 1977, which conveniently was on a Saturday this year.


End file.
